


and i ain't gonna lose

by theafterimages



Category: GOT7
Genre: Denial, Fluff and Crack, Gay Chicken, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 16:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6572641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theafterimages/pseuds/theafterimages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson is the undisputed king of gay chicken…. until Mark challenges him. (College AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i ain't gonna lose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raindropcakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raindropcakes/gifts).



> Thank you to C, E & S for looking over this! This is actually also ganlanshu's holiday fic request fill. ;; I'll get through them all, I really will. (Though my next writing goal is to post a few more short Frat AU pieces.)

It’s been a week since the last time Jinyoung tried this, but as soon as he scoots close enough to Jackson that they’re pressed against each other, Jackson knows exactly what he’s up to.

Jackson promptly lowers the arm he’d had draped over the back of the couch and curls it around Jinyoung’s shoulders. “You look really good,” Jackson tells Jinyoung, pitching his voice low.

Jinyoung’s eyes skim down briefly to touch on Jackson’s mouth, then meeting Jackson’s gaze again. “I feel good, too,” he murmurs. “Want to see?”

“Oh, yes,” Jackson says dramatically, tilting Jinyoung’s face up. 

Jinyoung’s lips are already tugging upwards even as Jackson leans in, his body going rigid in Jackson’s arms. Jackson mentally counts down, somehow keeping a straight face, and sure enough after a few more seconds Jinyoung pulls away and bursts out, “Okay, I give up!”

“Yes!” Jackson pumps his fist, jumping up from the couch to do a quick victory dance. “ _Weeeeee are the champions_ -”

“How can you keep losing gay chicken when you’re _actually gay_?” Youngjae demands of Jinyoung, laughing.

“That doesn’t mean I want to kiss Jackson!” Jinyoung protests, kicking at Jackson for good measure.

Jaebum’s been focused on his phone all evening, but he spares a moment to absently say, “You don’t have to kiss anybody you don’t want to.” 

“Do _you_ want to kiss me?” Jackson teases him, puckering his lips and leaning in over Jaebum’s phone. Laughing, Jaebum pushes his face away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jackson brags about it even more to Mark at home the next day, while they’re continuing their Star Wars marathon.

“Everybody’s tried and no one can beat me.” Jackson closes his eyes in contentment as Mark keeps massaging his scalp just right. Best roommate, he thinks fuzzily, rubbing his cheek against Mark’s bony shoulder. Such friendship. “I’m the king of gay chicken.”

“I haven’t tried,” Mark says mildly.

Jackson’s eyes snap back open and he lifts his head and stares at Mark. Not that Mark’s blank expression gives anything away. Why is his poker face so good??? “Seriously?”

Mark shrugs. “Sure, why not.” 

Jackson thinks about it. On the one hand, it’s really hard to fluster Mark. He doesn’t even blink when his dad brings up the Little Cock nickname story. He might be harder than Jackson thinks. On the other hand, Jackson reminds himself, he’s the _king_. He’s beaten everyone else. He’s sure he’ll have Mark on his knees, too.

“Okay.” He clears his throat. His voice had sounded kind of weird, for some reason.

Mark grins. “Okay,” he says, turning toward him. 

“You mean now?” Jackson asks, startled. “But what about…” He waves a hand at the screen.

“This won’t take long, right?”

“Nope,” Jackson says firmly, and promptly turns his own body so that he’s facing Mark completely, suddenly hyperaware of how their legs are touching. “You’re going down, Dimsum.”

Mark laughs outright. “Shouldn’t we start slower?” he teases as he cups his hands against the sides of Jackson’s neck, skimming his thumb just beneath Jackson’s ear. Jackson shivers, between the touch and the sudden flash of Mark on his knees, his full lips slick and red-

Not that he thinks of Mark that way, he quickly reminds himself as he rests his hands on Mark’s shoulders. Time to stop thinking such weird thoughts and just focus on getting the game over with so Jackson can go back to bragging and watching the movie. And to that scalp rub, which doesn’t call up even more weird thoughts about Mark rubbing other… _anyway_.

Mark’s face is already really close, so that much is easy. Mark’s watching in perfect concentration, his eyes on Jackson’s mouth, which—is probably really hot for anyone he ever hooks up with. Not that Jackson thinks that, himself, it’s just. He just noticed, that’s all.

Talking has always been a key part of Jackson's strategy. Psyching out his opponents. But it doesn’t feel like the way to go with Mark, so he just keeps leaning in. He keeps expecting Mark to laugh and jumps back, but instead Mark stays perfectly still. Jackson’s mouth inches closer and closer to Mark’s, until he can feel Mark’s breath against his lips, and Mark _still_ doesn’t move. So clearly the only thing Jackson can do is kiss him.

And then Mark kisses him back???

Which, okay, Jackson somehow thinks over the sound of his pulse rushing in his ears. Bros can kiss each other. And besides, Jackson’s sure that’s where it’ll stop—he opens his mouth against Mark’s, sure Mark will push him away and laugh and give up, but instead Mark follows his lead and, well, apparently even a full-on make out isn’t enough for Mark to quit. 

Whatever, Jackson’s not quitting either, he thinks dimly, need (to prove himself!) pulsing through him. Just to prove it he shifts forward without breaking the kiss, crawling onto Mark’s lap until he’s straddling him. He feels Mark’s hands at his hips and assumes he’ll push him aside, but doesn’t even get to feel the rush of victory before he realizes Mark’s pulling him in closer, and then startles when Mark’s hands curve around his ass, gripping firmly.

Mark making a first move! And he’s sitting down, so Jackson can’t even get a hold of his ass right now, too! Jackson would scowl, except his mouth is way too busy pretty much devouring (and being devoured by; Mark’s holding his own, Jackson’s very proud of his bro) Mark’s at the moment. If he can’t do that, then clearly he has to grope something else. He reaches down between them and has just curved his hand around the outline of Mark’s semi in his jeans, the shock of it rocketing through him, when there’s a knock at the door and they startle apart.

Jackson stares down at Mark, trying to figure out what to say. Mark just smiles, like this is a perfectly normal Wednesday afternoon, and gives Jackson’s ass a quick squeeze before sliding out from underneath him.

“I’ll get it,” he volunteers as the knock sounds again. 

“Okay,” Jackson says. He doesn’t even try to cover up how his voice cracks, just topples over and buries his face in a sofa cushion as Mark walks away. He’s so used to his string of easy wins, but Mark’s going to make him work for it. Mark hadn’t even looked _flustered_.

It’s a _good_ thing, Jackson tells himself. It’ll make winning so much more satisfying. He’ll have Mark on his knees-

He gives himself a quick slap and forcefully shoves aside that mental image yet again, then quickly gets up and heads to the doorway, too, anxious for the distraction.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It turns out to be Jaebum, who's looking for help in finding his cat, Nora. Jackson throws himself wholeheartedly into the quest, brushing off all of Jaebum's attempts at asking if the two of them are all right in favor of focusing on Nora. It takes a while for them to discover her latest hiding place, and by then Jackson has to go to class and Mark has plans with his brother. 

Jackson barely absorbs a word of the lecture, too busy reliving every second of Mark’s body underneath his. He _has_ to keep thinking about it, obviously, if he wants to figure out how to use it to beat him. Mark must have given something away other than how he feels and how he tastes… 

Jackson takes a long drink from his quickly emptying water bottle. 

He doesn’t go straight home. Instead, he makes a stop to get a few things for the next stage of this game. Unless Mark just admits defeat—which, of course, is what Jackson is hoping will happen—Jackson has to be ready for more. As a former Boy Scout he’s a big believer in always being prepared.

Mark’s bedroom door is closed when Jackson gets home, same as usual. What’s _not_ normal is how it’s only a few minutes before Mark pads out into the living room where Jackson’s perched on the couch, having been debating if he should knock on Mark’s door or not.

Jackson realizes he’s sitting in the same spot where they had made out earlier and quickly leaps to his feet. “How’s your brother?” he asks, walking over to him. 

“He’s good,” Mark says easily, taking Jackson’s hand. Jackson links their fingers together, the way he has a thousand times, and studies Mark in bewilderment. Is Mark really not thrown at all after earlier, or does he just have the best poker face of all time? “How was class?”

“Fine,” Jackson says, though he’s honestly not sure, since he’d spent the whole time thinking about Mark. Mark grins at him, like he knows, and Jackson grips his hand more tightly. “We didn’t finish.”

“I know,” Mark says serenely.

“Unless it was too much for you,” Jackson says. Hopefully, of course.

“Nope.” Mark’s giving him that _look_ again. Jackson is... very impressed by his bro’s game, that’s all. “What about you?”

“No,” Jackson says indignantly. “I’m the king, remember?”

Mark smirks. Someone will probably think that’s hot, but Jackson definitely doesn’t. “Want to try again?”

Jackson nods, then pauses. “Hold on.” He reaches around Mark and very firmly grips his ass. With _both_ hands. He’s pleased when Mark jolts, making this cute, startled little noise. “There, now it’s fair.”

“No,” Mark says, and Jackson full body shudders as he reaches between them and palms Jackson through his jeans. “ _Now_ it’s fair.”

Jackson looks at Mark. Mark looks at Jackson.

Then Jackson has Mark pressed back against the wall and they’re making out again, like they’d never stopped. While Jackson briefly considers just seeing if he can kiss Mark until Mark gives up, he realizes that he’d better make the next move before Mark does. And before the way Mark keeps rubbing his cock with such perfect pressure renders Jackson unable to make any sort of plan at all. He may be the king of gay chicken, but he’s still only human.

He finally tears himself away long enough to tug Mark’s shirt up. “Off,” he tells him. “Unless you don’t want-”

“No, it’s fine,” Mark says, promptly pulling off his shirt. “You, too.”

Jackson nods and has it off and tossed aside in no time. Which is good, because he’d been getting hotter with every second. “All right,” he says at last, as they just look at each other.

Mark laughs. “Out of ideas?”

“ _No_ ,” Jackson says firmly, and to prove it he promptly picks Mark up, startling another laugh out of him. Mark quickly gets the idea, wrapping his legs around Jackson’s waist, though he ups the game himself by sucking a kiss at the join of Jackson’s neck as Jackson carries him across the room. Jackson whines loudly as he realizes Mark’s set out to leave a mark.

“It’s gay chicken, not vampire roleplay,” Jackson reminds him as he drops Mark on the couch.

Mark grins up at him. He has the teeth for vampire roleplay, that's for sure. “So that’s what you wouldn’t do?”

Jackson rubs at his neck, where it’s still humming with the sense memory of Mark’s mouth. “One thing at a time, okay?” he says hastily, and Mark laughs but nods.

Jackson kisses his way down Mark’s torso, gratified to both feel and hear Mark breathing ever more heavily. He makes sure to make note of every time Mark reacts at all. Purely to help with the game in the future, of course. Unless Mark gives up right now, which Jackson hopes he doesn’t—since, after all, it would be kind of anticlimactic. Jackson has a Plan, so of course he wants to be able to carry it out, to make his victory will be as satisfying as possible.

He reaches the waistband of Mark’s sweatpants—after biting Mark’s stomach a few times, since it actually makes Mark whimper—and looks up at Mark. “Still in?” he asks.

Mark props himself up on his elbows, staring down at Jackson in disbelief. Jackson beams, pleased by how impressed Mark clearly is. He needs to just admit that he doesn’t stand a chance—after Jackson finishes what he’s doing now, that is, because there’s no use in abandoning a perfectly good Plan! 

“Still in,” Mark says, wetting his lips. They’re red and swollen, maybe from kissing Jackson earlier. Or, Jackson realizes, maybe because he’s been biting them now. 

He lunges back up—keeping your opponent off their game is important—and kisses Mark again for a little while, until he feels Mark starting to unfasten his jeans. One-handed, since his other hand is, as always, on Jackson’s ass. “What are you doing?” Jackson asks him hazily, lifting his head.

“Taking your pants off,” Mark says, cocking his head. “Why?”

“It’s my turn,” Jackson reminds him.

“But if you’re taking off mine-”

“How about I just keep going, and then if you can keep up your turn will be after that,” Jackson suggests. Mark looks bewildered but nods, and Jackson refocuses, tugging off Mark’s sweatpants with a flourish.

He’d been able to feel earlier that Mark wasn’t wearing any underwear, but that doesn’t mean he’s fully prepared for his first look at Mark’s cock. Maybe _that’s_ why the Little Cock story doesn’t bother Mark, Jackson thinks with no small amount of awe.

He licks his hand hurriedly, then wraps it around Mark’s cock, giving him a few quick, loose strokes. And okay, Jackson’s never done this for another guy before, but he’s definitely had experience here he can put to good use. Soon enough he’ll have Mark writhing on the couch, moaning his name-

Jackson wets his lips—because they’ve been feeling dry today, that’s all—which makes him rethink his plan. He strokes Mark a few more times before impulsively leaning down, pleased when he hears Mark’s startled exclamation as Jackson leans in toward his cock.

Jackson has never given a blowjob before (though he’s really good at it in all his Jay Chou dreams.) His mouth is already watering even before he starts. Clearly he’s a natural.

He had thought it would be a big deal, but it’s really not. Just one more way he can do his best to get Mark to be as loud as possible. (Something Jackson is deeply committed to—so that Mark will be loud as he announces that he’s giving up the game. Obviously.) Jackson knows he’s good with his mouth—every girl he’s hooked up with has always told him that. He knows what he likes when he’s getting sucked off, he knows what he’s seen in porn, and what he read when he researched how to give blowjobs on his phone earlier ( _always be prepared_ , seriously, that's some life advice Jackson will always stand by). He’s not gonna do anything fancy, but he can get the job done—and is, judging by how Mark’s moaning and clutching his hair, which just inspires Jackson to work harder. Even when Jackson goes too far and has to pull off fast, gagging, going by Mark’s stunned noise it doesn’t count against him at all.

“Sorry I can’t deep throat,” Jackson teases afterwards, once he’s on Mark’s lap, his arms wrapped tight around Mark as he listens to Mark’s still racing heartbeat. Definitely time for a cuddle break. “I have a gag reflex, you know, like a normal person.”

“I bet I could learn how to do it,” Mark muses, and just the thought sends a jolt through Jackson. A jolt of… appreciation for Mark’s commitment to the game. Obviously.

Once Mark takes his turn—he’s a quick learner, his mouth perfectly wet and hot on Jackson, though Jackson’s pretty sure that the way Mark keeps staring up at him, bright eyes wide and intent, is cheating—they just curl around each other on the couch and doze. Day one ends in a draw, but Jackson is sure that tomorrow will be his.

 

 

 

 

 

 

After spending the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed alone, his restless dreams filled with all sorts of increasingly rated scenes involving Mark, Jackson is more than ready to settle this once and for all. He waits—well, unless you count an extensive make out session before they both leave that morning—until they’re both in for the night. Then, after a long shower and the use of some of the supplies he brought the day before, he knocks on Mark’s closed bedroom door.

“Come in,” Mark calls. 

Jackson immediately yanks open the door. Mark’s curled under his bedcovers, but Jackson can see his bare shoulder peeking out over the dark coverlet. Is Mark already naked?

“Hey,” he says, swallowing as Mark sits up, the blankets falling down far enough to reveal that at the very least Mark isn’t wearing a shirt.

Mark smiles slowly, looking up at Jackson in a way that is way too appealing. How does he _do_ that? It has to be cheating. “Hi, Gaga.”

Turnabout is fair play, Jackson decides in a flash, and hurriedly strips off his own clothes as he crosses the room. He makes sure to leave his jeans by the bed as he climbs in, Mark pulling back the covers so that Jackson can join him. Sure enough, he’s already naked, and the semi Jackson can feel against his thigh as Mark curls up against him makes Jackson wonder just what Mark was doing before he got home—but Jackson is a man on a mission, and he won’t let himself be distracted by thoughts like that.

There are so many things Jackson wants to do with him…. in the name of winning the game. But first Jackson takes a minute to just cuddle with him, wrapping himself around Mark and kissing the top of his head. It’s important to be at least a little normal—no matter which of them wins or loses this (well, Jackson will obviously win, but he can be generous and pretend it’s still up for debate) Mark’s still going to be one of his best friends and the best roommate he could ask for. 

“How was your test?” Mark mumbles against his collarbone.

“Good, I guess.” He’d been able to focus better during today's classes, even with flashes of memory of the weight of Mark on his tongue, the feel of Mark’s hand stroking him until he came… 

He doesn't realize he's stroking Mark's ass until Mark laughs sleepily and tilts his head up to look at him, then curls one hand around the back of Jackson’s neck and pulls him in for a languid kiss that heats up quickly as they start grinding against each other. 

This is something Jackson could do all night—the sacrifices he makes for this game, honestly—but he has a Plan. And now is the time to play his trump card.

“I’m ready to be fucked,” he murmurs smugly in Mark’s ear. “Stretched and clean and everything.” Take _that_ , Mark Tuan, he thinks as he pulls away to gauge his reaction.

Mark is just smiling. “Me, too,” he tells him, and promptly reaches under his pillow and pulls out a small bottle of lube and two condoms.

Jackson sighs. Foiled again.

(Though it’s hard to be too disappointed as Mark bounces on his cock, and by the time they switch places and Jackson’s moaning into the pillow as he feels Mark come inside him he’s long since forgotten that this technically isn’t a victory.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jackson wakes up with a start the next morning, already reaching out even though he can tell the rest of the bed is empty. The sheets are warm, at least, so Mark couldn’t have left long ago.

Jackson vaguely remembers kissing Mark with increasingly laziness until… well, they must have fallen asleep that way. He doesn’t remember who fell asleep first, but he’s sure it must have been Mark. Can Jackson count that as a victory?

No, he decides hastily. That wouldn’t be fair, if he can’t remember for sure. They’ll just have to keep going.

Jackson drags himself out of bed and goes in search of him. He still aches from the night before, like he’s been through an especially effective workout. It’s nice, a satisfying reminder that he’s still in the game.

He wonders how Mark’s feeling, and if he maybe needs a full-body massage. It’ll give him a chance to be a good friend _and_ a new way to try to win. Getting Mark naked and back in his bed really is for the greater good.

A new day means a new chance for victory, he reflects as he finds Mark in the kitchen, looking in the fridge. Jackson is determined to give it his all.

With that in mind, he finally approaches Mark, wrapping his arms around Mark’s waist as he hooks his chin over Mark’s shoulder. “Are you making food?” he mumbles hopefully.

Mark snorts and shuts the door, relaxing back against Jackson. “I’ll pour you cereal.”

“My hero,” Jackson says around a yawn. He nuzzles Mark’s neck, the game forgotten for once. After all, they do this, like, four times a week, just usually with more clothes on. Sometimes Jackson just wakes up slowly, and it helps to cling to Mark until he gets his bearings.

But during mornings like this it’s _not_ normal for Mark’s stomach to tighten under Jackson’s absently stroking fingers, or for Jackson to hear him suddenly inhale, or for Jackson to abruptly flash back to mouthing his way across the flat surface the night before. He wonders if he’d left marks behind and before he knows it his hand slides down, and he's sucking a mark of his own into the soft skin of Mark’s neck, and Mark is whimpering and needy against him.

There’s no reason he can’t try the same things again, Jackson decides as he drops to his knees. After all, one of them could work this time. It’s possible.

(He _did_ leave marks, Jackson verifies with satisfaction, and adds a few more for good measure.)

Which is how he and Mark both end up missing their first classes of the day, when trading blowjobs turns into more making out on the kitchen floor, Jackson sitting back against a cabinet and Mark on his lap. 

“You’re too good at this,” Jackson pants, clutching at Mark’s back as Mark trails his lips down Jackson’s neck.

Mark laughs quietly. “Jealous?” he teases.

“ _No_. Why would I be jealous of anyone you’ve hooked up with?”

“I meant of how good I was,” Mark says, lifting his head to grin up at Jackson.

That quietly confident, borderline smug look might be the death of Jackson. The obvious way to put a stop to it is to kiss him again. Which will hopefully stop Mark from thinking about anyone else he’s hooked up with, too. Not that Jackson cares if he is, not even a little bit; it’s just that those thoughts won’t help Jackson win. Better to do his best to make sure Mark is only thinking of him, Jackson decides, and sets about doing just that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They do separate long enough for Mark to go to his second class, though it takes some doing. Jackson hopes Mark’s never like this with anyone else. Because it’d be way too easy for Mark to get too caught up and run late for things, that’s all. Punctuality is very important!

Their paths don’t cross again until they both end up at a party at Namjoon’s apartment that night. 

Jackson’s been there a few minutes, greeting people and getting a drink, when he runs across Mark talking to Joohyun. They’re sitting together on one of the couches, looking way too cozy. They’ve hooked up before, Jackson knows that—he always knows about everyone Mark hooks up with. It’s a being a good roommate thing. Is she still interested? Or, wait, are she and Seulgi together right now? Relationships change so often in their group of friends that Jackson loses track of all that, honestly.

Anyway, as Jackson stares at Mark and Joohyun in a completely normal, unconcerned, friendship kind of way, he realizes that maybe the trick to winning against Mark isn’t _what_ he does, but _where_. No better time to test that than the present, he decides, hurrying over to them.

He takes a seat on Mark’s lap, smiling sunnily at Joohyun. “Hi!” he says, leaning over to give her a quick hug. “How’s Seulgi? You’re here with Seulgi, right?”

“Right,” she confirms, glancing from one of them to the other. Then she laughs, though Jackson’s not sure why. “I should go find her. I’ll see you guys later.”

Jackson’s a little sad about this, since he hasn’t seen Joohyun in a while and talking to her is always nice. But then again, this means he gets Mark all to himself, and he’s not going to argue with that. 

He turns to face Mark, already tingling with anticipation. “Hi,” he says again, linking his arms around Mark’s neck. Mark needs to focus on him for this to work, after all.

Jackson hadn’t planned to do much—they’re in public, and he doesn’t want Mark to be embarrassed or anything, he just wants him to give up so that Jackson can take his victory lap already.

But Mark’s the one who leans in until their foreheads are touching. “Hi,” he echoes, smiling just a little bit. He looks at Jackson’s mouth first, he really does, so Jackson clearly has to one-up him by claiming a lazy, thorough kiss, way more focused on how Mark’s hands slip down his back to curl around his ass than on the scattered teasing wolf-whistles in the background.

“You always grab my ass,” Jackson teases. His voice cracks as Mark nips at his earlobe. Whatever, Jackson knows how to exploit all of Mark’s weaknesses, too!

“You always like it,” Mark murmurs in his ear.

The thing is, Mark doesn’t really talk much while any of this is going on, but when he does it’s always super effective. Jackson needs to congratulate him on that someday. When he can actually think straight enough after it happens.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mark slips away a while later, saying something about getting a drink and leaving Jackson to blink after him. 

No sooner has Mark left than Youngji and Kangjoon are on him, Youngji’s eyes wide. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’re going out with Mark!” she scolds him, backhanding Jackson’s arm.

Jackson yelps indignantly, rubbing his arm. “I’m not going out with Mark! Why would you even think that?”

“You guys just made out for like half an hour,” she points out.

“And you were pretty much already dating anyway,” Kangjoon adds, looking way too amused by this.

“We are not!” Jackson scoffs. "It's just gay chicken!" What are these two even thinking? Just because he and Mark live together and spend so much time together and mean more to each other than almost anyone else does and can’t stop fucking doesn’t mean they should _date_.

Youngji and Kangjoon listen patiently as Jackson explains the whole story—or most of it, anyway, since Youngji protests before he can give them too many details. “I don’t think this is gay chicken, Jackson,” Youngji says at last.

Kangjoon nods. “I’m pretty sure this is just gay.”

“It’d be bisexual,” Jackson corrects him. “And that’s not even—that doesn’t even matter! Of course it’s gay chicken!”

Youngji and Kangjoon trade doubtful looks. Then Kangjoon smiles. “If you’re playing gay chicken, then we should bet on who will win, right?”

“Oh, you’re right!” Youngji agrees. 

“I already know you’re both going to pick me,” Jackson begins.

“I was going to say Mark,” Kangjoon corrects him. 

Youngji nods. “Me, too. He’s a good kisser, and-”

“Why are you still thinking about him being a good kisser?” Jackson immediately demands. “You have a boyfriend now!”

She and Kangjoon both burst out laughing. Affronted, Jackson storms off to find Mark. At least _he’ll_ understand.

(“You’re not thinking about Youngji, are you?” he demands between kisses after they lock themselves in the bathroom, both of their drinks long since forgotten.

“What?” Mark asks in bewilderment before moaning loudly as Jackson braces him back against the wall, then slowly lowers him onto his cock.

“Good,” Jackson gasps out, having long since lost track of what he means, of anything but what it feels like to be in this deep. Mark doesn’t bother saying anything, just lets Jackson claim one kiss after another.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

This game is getting a little out of hand, Jackson realizes the next night as he and Mark cuddle postcoitally some more. At this rate it’ll take him forever to win. What if by the time Jackson wins he doesn’t even remember how to sing We Are the Champions anymore???

That’ll never happen, he realizes, the momentary hysteria quickly passing. He could never forget Queen. Though he hums a few bars just to make sure.

“What?” Mark mumbles.

“Nothing,” Jackson says quickly, and goes back to broodingly kissing his way along Mark’s jawline. Now he’s having the best sex of his life—and the best kisses, and cuddling, and basically everything—with one of the people he loves most in the world. Obviously this can’t go on.

It’s time to bring out the big guns.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jackson’s sure he’s figured it out: rimming. Nothing tops sticking his tongue in a guy’s ass, right?

Not much feels better, either, he discovers when Mark promptly returns the favor.

“I don’t know how to beat you!” Jackson complains when he can think again. “You keep doing everything!”

Mark smiles, way too sweetly for someone who just ate Jackson out while making the kind of noises that would make a porn company leap to hire him. “You’ll just have to keep trying,” he tells him.

Jackson sighs dramatically, pulling Mark close to cuddle. “Life is so hard.”


End file.
